


Sleepless Nights

by Mellow (SweetCandy)



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: At least mentioned, Crack, Cute Stiles, Established Relationship, Fluff, Good Peter, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Peter loves Stiles, Romance, Sane Peter, Spark Stiles Stilinski, snoring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-23 08:04:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9647369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetCandy/pseuds/Mellow
Summary: Peter Hale loved Stiles. He really did.He genuinely, wholeheartedly loved Stiles and would worship the ground he walked on if he could. And Stiles was worth to be worshipped.And while he loved every quirk, every weird personality trait, every silly tick Stiles had, right now he contemplated if that all was really worth the torture he was going through that were sharing a bed with Stiles.-Or: Stiles is a heavy snorer and the only reason Peter has been able to stay sane after all these sleepless nights is because...well, Peter doesn't know how he accomplished that either.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I know I've been gone for a long, long, long time, but I started university and I don't really have a lot of time I can spend on continuing Alpha&Omega, but, I'm slowly making progress and now that I have a little semester break I hope I can get some stuff done.
> 
> Anyways, here is a little bit of Steter fluff, hope you enjoy it :)

Peter Hale loved Stiles. He really did.

He genuinely, wholeheartedly loved Stiles and would worship the ground he walked on if he could. And Stiles was worth to be worshipped.

The boy was unbelievably intelligent, sharp, quick, and clever, with a sharp tongue, a good heart and just the right amount of darkness to make him superior to all his friends. And he wasn’t too hard on the eye either with his big doe eyes, his upturned nose, the pale skin crested by beauty marks and not to mention those plush, red lips that caused every man and woman to imagine dirty, dirty things.

Peter was quite proud of himself that he could reenact the dirty thoughts he got every time he glanced at Stiles’ mouth because the human had quite an oral fixation and Peter had the stamina of a werewolf.

Peter had known from the first time he had seen Stiles that the boy was perfect, flawless even. And while he had always thought Stiles would make a magnificent wolf, he had realized that no matter how magnificent Stiles would be as a were, he was even greater as a human.

And while he loved every quirk, every weird personality trait, every silly tick Stiles had, right now he contemplated if that all was really worth the torture he was going through that were sharing a bed with Stiles.

He had quickly learned that sleeping in the same room, never mind the same bed, as Stiles would be difficult, not so much because the boy kicked and punched everything around him in his sleep, but because of the constant noise.

Stiles was a snorer, a really heavy one as well.

Peter wondered how the Sheriff had managed not to strangle Stiles in his sleep because even with weaker senses and a few walls separating, Stiles snoring was so loud that it could wake up the dead. Peter was glad that he had bought himself a nice big house instead of a modern condo like he had initially wanted, because otherwise their neighbors would’ve regularly called the police to report a noise nuisance.

But since Peter had decided to get himself a nice, big house in the woods without any neighbors in a three mile radius and with enough luxury to satisfy him as well as his wolf, it was only the wildlife and Peter himself, who were suffering from sleepless nights.

He sighed and took a deep breath to calm himself so he wouldn’t grab a pillow and press it over Stiles face until everything was finally _quiet_ , but in that second the human decided to make an exceptionally loud noise, barely resembling a snore anymore. If it weren’t for the dark bags underneath his eyes and the constant feeling of tiredness, Peter would’ve been impressed.

As it was, he stared at Stiles’ sleeping face disbelievingly, before he shook his head slightly and closed his eyes again, trying to block out all noise so he would get a few hours of rest before the sun would wake up the few birds who Stiles had yet to drive away with his snoring.

Of course, Stiles decided that would be the perfect moment to change his sleeping position. His elbow hit Peter’s right kidney, the humans right knee tried to castrate the wolf and a far too hard foot managed to kick against Peter’s upper tight. If it weren’t for his werewolf healing, the man was pretty sure he would look like a victim of domestic abuse.

‘ _Oh no, my boyfriend isn’t trying to hurt me on purpose, he dreams of being a kickboxer when he’s asleep and can’t control his limbs_.’

But worse than his crushed balls, screaming kidney and cramping muscle, was the fact that Stiles’ face rested right on Peter’s chest now, nose caressing his collar bone and drool wetting his right peck, meaning that Stiles was snoring so close to his ear now, that Peter was honestly worried about becoming insane again.

Being killed by Derek –again- didn’t sound too bad right now. At least he would get some peace and quiet. Death was so relaxing…and much more comfortable than being in a coma.

He managed to lay still for another five minutes, which felt like hours, until Stiles’ snoring sounded like he’d die any second now.

With a quiet groan Peter slowly moved away from his boyfriend and replaced himself with a pillow, before he left the room. Stiles was such a heavy sleeper that he wouldn’t notice. It would be impossible for Peter to get any sleep tonight anyways, so he decided that he could use the time doing something useful instead of laying around, slowly slipping into insanity again.

He padded through the hallway of the upper floor and took the third door to the left and slipped into the large room quietly. After finally settling down again he had made it his mission to build himself a private library that was equally as glorious, if not more, than the one in the Hale house before the fire.

And if he may say so himself, he had definitely accomplished that goal.

His library took up space on the first and second floor, there was dark, luxurious furniture, and large bookcases reaching from the floor to the ceiling, there were huge windows replacing one wall to fill the room with enough light and a large, wooden spiral staircase connecting both floors.

Stiles had been ecstatic when he had seen the library when it had been in its early stages and been barely filled with a handful of books and had helped Peter with finding rare copies and first editions. Within one year they had filled up everything and on rainy days Peter could always find Stiles lounging somewhere in their large library with a book in his lap and a large quilt over his shoulders.

 Peter took a look around and contemplated on what he could want to read. Stiles had recently ordered a few boxes of fantasy, sci-fi and young adult novels to fill up some more shelves in his part of the library, while Peter had gotten a few interesting biographies, historical novels and a few exceptional foreign classics in their original language.

He still had to put them into the shelves and what better time to do so than now? He could still hear Stiles snoring, but it wasn’t as loud as a low flying jet anymore….more like a truck driving past you again and again and again.

So Peter moved to the section of European books and started filling the few empty spaces on the shelves with the most recently bought copies. He enjoyed sorting his books and had a strict system he organized them in. Biographies sorted into autobiographies or normal biographies, then divided into the work field of the person it was about, then in historical order. But that were just the biographies, he had a different system for every genre. Stiles liked to make fun of him for that, but Stiles was just as picky about how he ordered his books so Peter was allowed to snark right back.

He took out an antique copy of _Faust I_ to put the second part next to it- equally as antique-, when he felt something soft brushing against the tip of his fingers. He stilled when he remembered just what he had hidden there, so Stiles wouldn’t find it because while the boy was insisting that Peter taught him a few of the many languages he spoke, Stiles wasn’t fluent enough to touch European books.

Behind a few Goethe and Schiller books sat a little black box. A box he had taken out of his vault after his first date with Stiles because even back then he had known that one day he would give it to Stiles.

His stomach rolled with anticipation, he couldn’t wait to see Stiles wearing the beautiful ring which had been in the Hale family for so many generations that nobody really knew who originally owned it. It had been handed down to him, not to Talia, and while it had been worn by women, Peter was pretty sure that Stiles wouldn’t care about such a small detail. It was a beautiful ring after all and made out of the most perfect diamonds and beautiful white gold which embedded small runes on the inside to protect the person wearing it.

Peter had taken great care that the ring would fit Stiles’ fingers. He had even gone to Deaton so the size could be adjusted without erasing a rune accidentally. And that alone was a proof of how much Peter loved Stiles, he even refrained from insulting Deaton. If that wasn’t true love Peter didn’t know what was.

Anyways, he had kept the box handy ever since their first date because even back then he had known that Stiles was his and that he would make sure he never gave Stiles a reason to leave him. He wanted to boy to be his and his alone. And their relationship had evolved rather quickly, they had kissed on their first date, had sex pretty quickly after that and by the time they’d been a couple Stiles had spent most of his time over at Peter’s place.

So he had found out pretty early that Stiles was a heavy snorer, but back then Stiles hadn’t been living with him and hadn’t stayed over every day. Now that they lived together Peter didn’t even get a few nights every week where he was able to sleep in silence so he could catch up on all the sleep he had missed.

No, now he had to take comfort in napping repeatedly throughout the day when Stiles was working or busy puttering around somewhere in the house. Peter hadn’t even known that a werewolf could’ve dark circles underneath his eyes, until he had spotted them on his own face.

But he made use of his sleepless nights by spending the time working or doing something else that had to be done anyway. Well, ‘working’ wasn’t really what his job could be called. His recovered money worked for itself and smart investments let his fortune grow without him having to move a single finger. But he had a small side business going on where he translated tomes, spells and whatever else needed translation, for other supernatural creatures who were without a proper translator in their pack, circle, coven or blessing or whatever they called their family. He made a bit of money with that, but mostly it allowed him to gather information, make copies of the things he translated, granted him favors with rare supernatural breeds and offered him the opportunity to find everything his little Spark needed to train his magic.

He couldn’t rely on Deaton to get Stiles everything the boy needed.

Peter yawned while he toyed with the box in his hand and blinked slowly. He was so very tired and the morning was so far away. Maybe he should drop by Derek and sleep there for a few hours and return before Stiles woke up.

But Derek had his betas stay with him and they would surely tell Stiles everything so it wasn’t really an option.

He heard how Stiles shuffled around in their bed, clearly missing the warmth of another body next to him and Peter couldn’t stay away, not when he heard he unhappy snore of his mate.

It was a sign of how much Peter heard Stiles sore in the past few years for him to be able to recognize the emotion of every snore Stiles made.

With a sigh he left the library again, mourning the opportunity of something useful and returned to their bedroom where Stiles was still sleeping but with an unhappy frown on his face. Even in his sleeping state he knew that Peter wasn’t there.

The wolf sighed again and began to lift the covers so he could crawl underneath them, when he noticed that he still carried the little box with him. He looked down on it, then back at his boyfriend and then carefully put it into the drawer of his nightstand.

It wasn’t necessary to hide it behind books anymore, Peter thought while he pulled Stiles closer to him and wrapped his arms around Stiles’ lithe form. He would ask Stiles tomorrow and he had a feeling in his guts that the ring would stay on his boyfriend’s fingers for the rest of their lives.

He couldn’t wait to see the expression on the human’s face once he popped the question. And he already knew that the sex afterwards would be spectacular.

Of course, Stiles used that moment to snore so loud that even a bomb developed some jealousy, but Peter pushed his cravings for murder aside and instead pressed a light kiss on Stiles’ head because somehow he even loved the obnoxious snoring of his boyfriend.

(That didn’t change the fact that he called in a favor with a witch the very next day who promised him she would try to find a way to quieten the snoring a little bit without Stiles noticing it because the boy insisted that he wasn’t snoring.)

**Author's Note:**

> Still here? Liked it?
> 
> If yes, please leave a kudos or maybe even a comment, thank you! 
> 
> xx


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